


Paint It Black

by iamgizy (saddle_tramp)



Category: Jericho (US 2006)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-16
Updated: 2011-02-16
Packaged: 2017-10-15 17:19:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/163082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saddle_tramp/pseuds/iamgizy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rating: PG<br/>Pairing: none</p><p>Summary: When Jonah found an old friend on the road, it brought back memories he had been trying for years to forget.</p><p>Inspired totally by a drabble written by Live Journal user sightofland.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paint It Black

When Jonah saw the old Roadrunner, it hit him like a fist to the gut. He would know that car anywhere, but he sure hadn't expected to find it beside the road a few miles outside of Jericho.

Jonah walked over to the car, laying his hand on the faded paint to run his fingertips along the dusty painjob, moving slowly towards the front bumper. "Baby, what did he do to you?" he murmured, half to himself. He vividly remembered working to restore the old car, years ago when he still believed in honor and family and that 'I do' meant forever. He knew better now, of course. His honor was tarnished and battered but it was all that had survived after 'I do' became 'I hate you' and the family he would have died for broke into splinters.

It soothed something in his soul to see that at least the car hadn't really changed, that something good and beautiful had survived the ruin of his world. The paint hadn't seen a coat of wax in long time and the tires weren't in very good shape, but it was obviously loved still, despite that. It gave him hope for the first time in days that something worthwhile could be pulled from the ashes, that life after the bombs could become something more than just an existence.

Jonah moved to the front of the car and crouched down to inspect the damage, then patted the hood as he straightened again. "Eh, it's not that bad, old girl. I'll get you fixed up in no time." He turned to tell Mitchell to bring the tow truck around, but he stopped short at the look on Mitchell's face. "What's your problem?"

Mitchell scrubbed a hand through his hair, looking away, then met Jonah's gaze again. "Boss... Were you just _talking_ to that car?"

Jonah rolled his eyes. "Boy, if that's enough to make you this nervous, maybe you shouldn't be here."

Mitchell stiffened a bit, his jaw tightening. "You're the one talking to a busted-up old car."

"And you're the one towing it home for me," Jonah replied, his tone clipped and annoyed. "And if you even scratch the paint, I'll take it out of your hide. That car's _mine_. You got it, boy?"

Mitchell bristled at being called boy again, but he knew better than to complain. Jonah would be perfectly happy to kick his ass to prove who was top dog, and Mitchell knew it. "Yeah, I hear you."

Jonah turned away from Mitchell to go have a look around. "Good. Get your ass in gear then."

Mitchell glared at Jonah's back for a moment and then turned and stalked off towards the tow truck. One day he'd take Jonah down, but he knew today wasn't that day. He didn't have enough of Jonah's men willing to back him yet. If he screwed up and made his move too soon, they would shoot him down like a rabid dog and he knew it as well as Jonah did.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Jonah crouched between the open driver's side door and the seat, running his hand over the doorframe as he scanned the floorboard before lifting his gaze to the steering column.

Jake -- and he was sure it had been Jake driving, the duffle in the trunk had Jake’s passport tucked into the top, along with a sizeable roll of cash that was just plain useless now -- had obviously been hurt in the crash, but Jonah still hadn't found what caused the injury. There wasn't a lot of blood, but there was also no way to tell how quickly Jake had gotten out of the car after the crash. The blood could be from a small wound if Jake was knocked out by the crash, but if he had been quick to get out the boy was hurt pretty bad.

The familiar old keychain that hung from the ignition turned slightly in an errant breeze and caught Jonah’s eye, and he was soon lost in thought.

Jake _was_ alive, Jonah knew that much. One of the boys had brought the news back from town the day before that Jake was a hero for saving the life of a little girl and bringing in a bus full of kids that went off the road after the bombs went up. Mitchell thought it was a joke that Jake could do something so heroic, but Jonah wasn't very surprised, even though he knew that Jake's family probably was just as shocked as Mitchell.

Jonah understood Jake a lot better than Johnston or Gail ever had, and knew what kind of mettle the boy -- man, now -- had deep down. 'Kindred spirits' Emily used to call them, but Jonah's explanation was a lot simpler. Jake was him, twenty years and a lot of miles ago, and Jake knew it as well as Jonah did. Jake had the same sense of honor, and the same tendency to give his loyalty and then stick by someone to the death as long as they didn't do something his honor just couldn't stomach.

Jake's loyalty to Jonah led him into doing a lot of things his parents didn't approve of, but that same loyalty had turned into indifference in the blink of an eye when Jake was pushed a little too far. Jonah had done that, had been the one to ask more than Jake could give, and it cost him his son and his family. Jake never wanted it to turn out like it did, Jonah knew him well enough to know that, but Jake hadn't tried to fix it, either. Jake's loyalty had been abused and Jonah had known that he wouldn't be back to wait for it to happen again.

Jake understood Jonah as no one else ever had, but sometimes that wasn't a good thing. Jonah's honor could stretch and bend a bit more than Jake's, but Jonah had been beaten down and dragged through fire a lot more than Jake had. Jonah had learned hard that honor was something you had for yourself, not to impress other people. He could still be proud to be who he was even though he had done things he'd rather forget, and he could still say he had his honor even though no one else saw it that way. Jake wanted, _needed_ , Johnston's approval and let the old man's views cloud a lot of his opinions of himself.

Another breeze blew through the garage, making the keychain twirl, and then a squeak and a loud clatter made Jonah look quickly towards the door. One of his men piled three more tire rims on the one he had just dropped, then pushed the dolly he was using back towards the door and left without ever even noticing Jonah was there.

Jonah snorted slightly to himself and went back to looking over the interior of the car. He avoided looking at the slowly twirling leather keychain with its worn brass bolt snap this time, not wanting to see the sweat-stained leather or the faded ‘J’ that was almost worn away. Seeing it would just make him think about Jake again, and that wasn't a path that could lead to anything but regret.

Everything seemed to be reasonably intact on the inside of the car, or as intact as it had ever been, giving Jonah few clues as to what might have happened. The scarred dashboard had always been a little worse for wear, and the tiny rip in the top of the driver's seat had been there ever since Jake taught Emily to shoot. Jake had never repaired the nick to the front seat or the small round hole in the back, and often teased her about them because it always made Emily blush and laugh.

Jonah shook off the memory and stood to lean further into the car, wishing it didn't hold quite so many pieces of his past even though he knew that was why he had wanted it to begin with. He ran his hand over the underside of the dash lightly to feel for any jagged places as his gaze scanned the interior for anything that could explain Jake's injury. There wasn't a lot of blood in the car, and there hadn't been more than a few drops leading away from it, but Jonah was still curious about what had happened.

Eventually he spotted the piece of metal lying against the passenger door and smiled, his questions finally answered. The twisted bit of metal looked like part of the chrome trim from the station wagon Jake had hit, too small to have done much lasting damage as long as it didn't hit somewhere vital. He knew that hadn't happened, that Jake had walked away from the crash fairly intact, so his curiosity and the last bit of worry he had harbored were both eased.

Jonah straightened, backing out of the car and closing the driver's door. He folded his arms against the roof of the car and leaned there for a few moments, remembering better days.

 

~*~*~*~

 

"You're shitting me!" Jake exclaimed, wide-eyed. "You love this car! It took us _months_ to restore her!"

Jonah smiled at the reminder of the summer spent with Jake and Chris, working on the Roadrunner while Emily pretended to help and teased them about being grease monkeys. It was one of the best summers he could remember. He leaned against the roof above the driver's side door, smiling across the car at Jake as he said, "Yeah, but you'll take good care of her. You'll never get a real job without some way to get there, and without a job you can't afford a car." He patted the roof of the car. "This old girl will get you there and back, no matter where you need to be."

"But--! I-- .... Wow!" Jake stared at the car like he had never seen it before, then looked at Jonah again, smiling at just the idea of having his own car even as he said, "I can't pay you--"

"Because you don't have a job," Jonah finished for him, smirking. "I just covered that, kid."

Jake laughed. "Yeah, I guess you did." He looked back at the car and then laughed again. "Wow!" He moved to walk around the car as if he had never seen it before, running one hand over the slick finish and grinning wider by the moment.

Jonah just smiled and leaned against the car, idly playing with the keychain he had made for Jake while he waited for the boy to settle down. He thought every boy should have a car, but at eighteen Jake was about to graduate and still waiting, hoping that Johnston's next new truck would mean he got the old one.

Emily complained constantly that Jake had to borrow Gail's Buick when they wanted to go anywhere, and Jonah figured it was about time for him to step in where Johnston was lagging. Jake was like a son to him anyway, and Chris already had the pickup Jonah bought for him when Chris turned fifteen. Chris liked his truck and was all for giving the Roadrunner to his best friend, so there was no reason not to give it to Jake. He knew Jake needed the car, needed a way to get away from Johnston that Gail couldn't control, and that Emily would be happier if Jake had a car.

Pleasing Emily and Chris while taking care of Jake at the same time couldn't be a bad thing as far as Jonah was concerned. Johnston just didn't get the boy, refused to see how far away his expectations and constant criticisms drove Jake in simple self-defense, but Jonah had seen it from the time Jake was thirteen. Jonah knew exactly how much it hurt Jake that his dad seemed to think he was a screw up, and he had always done his best to let Jake know that he didn't share Johnston's low opinion. Jonah trusted Jake and made it plain he knew Jake would do the right thing, and Jake had never proven him wrong.

"I just... I don't know what to say," Jake said suddenly, drawing Jonah out of his thoughts.

Jonah turned towards the sound of Jake's voice, smiling wider when he saw Jake's expression. He hadn't seen Jake look so awed since the day he told Jake that he figured he already knew who his son-in-law would be someday and he couldn't be happier about it.

Jonah held out the keys, letting them dangle from the bolt snap as he smiled and said dryly, "Thanks would be good, kid." 

Jake laughed again, reaching one hand towards the keys. "Thank you. Just... I don't know how to tell you how much this means to me."

"You don't have to, Jake." Jonah dropped the keys into Jake's hand and then put his hand on Jake's shoulder, giving it a squeeze and a bit of a shake. "I'm trusting you with a lot, son. Take good care of her." He grinned. "And don't wreck the car, either."

Jake laughed, nodding. "You can count on it."

"I already knew that." Jonah squeezed Jake's shoulder again and then let his hand fall, jerking his head towards the car with a smirk. "Wanna go for a spin? I'll spring for pizza and a beer."

Jake grinned. "Get in."

Jonah laughed and turned away to walk around the car, grinning. He was closer to Jake than he was to his own boy, really, but Chris didn’t mind. He could see how alike Jake and Jonah were as easy as Emily did, and didn’t begrudge their friendship in the least.

 

~*~*~*~

 

"Jonah?"

Jonah shook himself out of his memories and turned towards the door, the hard mask he usually wore falling into place as easily as breathing. "What now, Mitchell?"

"Gracie shorted us again. I thought you should know."

Jonah's lips pressed into a flat line, his eyes narrowing. "And you just let her do it?"

"What could I do?" Mitchell asked, surprised and annoyed. "You said we couldn't even _threaten_ her. Am I supposed to beg?"

Jonah snorted and stalked towards the door. "I should have done it myself. Is my truck gassed up?"

Mitchell scowled as he replied grudgingly, "Yeah, it is."

"Good." Jonah herded Mitchell out of the garage and then closed and locked the door before he started towards his truck. "Go get Roy and Connor and tell them I want to leave ten minutes ago. _I'll_ go handle Gracie." He shot Mitchell a quick glare, adding, "Don't get lost after you find them. You're coming along, maybe you'll learn something."

Mitchell returned the glare. "I wouldn't miss it for the world, old man."

"Get your ass moving then, boy."

Jonah walked away without another word even though he knew that Mitchell was getting closer and closer to trying to take him down. Knowing that Mitchell wanted to put a bullet between his shoulder blades wasn't quite enough for Jonah's conscience, not after he told Mitchell's dad he'd give the boy a chance. He couldn't stand Mitchell, and half hoped the boy would just make his play and get it over with.

Once the boy made his play, all bets were off.

 

 ~ End


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